


Hanging

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Photography, Tattoos, alternate Universe- Other Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The strangest people have shows in Gerard's gallery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging

Mikey goes to Gerard’s gallery almost every day. He fits there, almost as well as he fits in Eyeball. Each place holds those with gimmicks and those that are true, and a few with a well honed eye delineating between the two. Each has a ton of people that push their appearance to extremes, and a handful that look like the lawyer next door, but still know how to appreciate the confidence of a shaved head, or the time it takes to dye your hair three different shades of green. He can have conversations in either building, talking when he knows his shit, and keeping quiet and learning when he doesn’t. It’s automatic to leave Eyeball and head directly to the gallery, to say goodbye to Krista and hello to Evan.

Even if he didn’t fit, he’d probably still go. Because it’s Gerard’s place. Gerard took CNN and pain and horror and made a building where art can be hung and propped up. Even if everyone was a pompous dick, Mikey would still be proud of his brother. That being said, the people that filter in and out of the gallery are his people. He can come in at any point and there’s someone he wants to have a conversation with. 

His favourite times are opening nights. Gerard’s excited, because he’s finally gotten to showcase something new. The artists are excited to be famous enough to get a showcase. The artists families are excited that there’s a possibility of art actually making their relation money. And the patrons are excited for what, by the end of the night, boils down to a party in a expensive loft.

This Thursday Mikey is especially interested in what the after party might be like. The concept was Frank’s originally, he knew a guy and had been the subject of one of his pieces. After hearing about it at Eyeball, Mikey had told Frank to pass along the details, knowing Gerard would be interested. Frank had informed Gerard about it with such enthusiasm that Gee actually ended up requesting a series.

Coming into the gallery, Mikey almost sighs. It’s going to be a good night. The walls are littered with photos of tattooed men and women. Apparently there’s some guy that approaches people with tattoos and asks them five questions, and when he’s done he draws on their skin. He makes the tattoo he thinks they’re missing, takes a photo of it, and moves on to the next person. It doesn’t surprise Mikey for a second that Gerard brought his work in. While his brother hates needles and a tattoo is one of the last things Gerard will ever agree to, the idea of reading people and displaying the answers for all to see is something that’s all Gee.

Amongst the normal patrons and the families, the former clearly distinguished from the latter based on clothing and hairstyle choices, are the models used. Or whatever their title would be. Mikey’s not sure if they count as artwork themselves, considering their bodies were used. He’s seen at least five different people walking around without shirts to show off back pieces, or wearing shorts to reveal a leg sleeve. He hangs back and tries to match the photos to the models.

“I’m one of them,” a guy says, sidling up to him. “I was Gabe’s second.” Mikey looks at him, then scans the pictures until he figures out which one is him. It’s a photo of his arm, and Mikey glances at the man’s arm. All the tattoos are the same. He reaches out and rubs the man’s forearm. Mikey is a expert on what paint feels like on skin, thanks to Gerard and his non-washing habits. It’s not paint.

“Looks like Gabe’s cheating, huh.”

“What?”

“He’s supposed to be painting the tattoos, right? But you’ve got it carved into your skin. Therefore, cheating.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Saporta wouldn’t do that, he’s not that kind of guy. What he drew, it meant something, so I got it inked afterward, and if you’re some sort of art critic douche bag that’s going to make bullshit claims in your shitty indie newspaper that only a handful of people will ever bother to read anyway then you’ve-”

Mikey almost wants to let him keep talking. Whoever this guy is, he’s passionate and between that and the lack of shirt Mikey’s pretty into him. Listening to a few more minutes of rant could be pretty sexy. But he interrupts. He doesn’t want the guy to think he’s an asshole. “Relax. Gerard doesn’t create shows for bad art. He doesn’t even create shows for good art created by assholes.” Except possibly Bert, but Mikey tries not to think about him very often.

“So you were fucking with me?”

A hundred dirty lines bloom like flowers in his brain. Mikey refrains himself, just says “I was curious.”

“Be curious, don’t cast dispersions on my friends. Asshole.” But he’s smiling, so Mikey considers himself in the clear. “I’m Pete.”

“Mikey.”

It’s the sort of night that calls for mingling. Mikey’s been to enough gallery parties to know that, and he’s sure Pete knows too. But that doesn’t make either of them take the first step away. They look at each other for a minute, silent. Finally Mikey throws out “do you have any other tattoos? On your legs?” It’s a decent conversation opener, it’s not like he can use his x-ray vision to see.

“Do you really want to know, or do you just want to see me naked?” Pete laughs but Mikey hates playing this kind of game.

“Both, actually.”

“Shit.” Pete giggles, and if the noise possibly makes Mikey fall for him even more, well, nobody has to know. “At least you're honest. Mikey I need to stay for a bit to help Gabe answer anyone with questions like you, you know, pricks. But if you stick around I'll meet you later?”

Mikey nods his head and scans the room until he pinpoints Gerard. He crosses the room and jumps in on the conversation. Gerard eventually leaves and a few others drift over and Mikey drinks a few drinks and before long Mikey’s being tapped on the back. He turns to see both Pete, and somebody about a foot taller than Pete.

“Wentz said you wanted to come home with us?”

Assuming it’s Gabe, his voice is much more solid and strong than Mikey’s come to expect from artists. It takes him a second to process the actual words. Figures he’d have a boyfriend. Especially figures he’d have a boyfriend and not think to mention it. Mikey opens his mouth to begin to calmly explain why there’s no need to beat the crap out of him, it was Pete who led him on -and yes, he’s totally fine with throwing Pete under the bus- when Gabe stops him with a hand on the shoulder.

“Me and Pete aren’t always me and Pete, got it son? So if you want to, we’re cool.” On one hand, Mikey thinks he sounds sort of like a douche. He’s probably a year younger than Gabe, he’s definitely not son age. On the other hand, the guy is hot, and two hot guys are mathematically better than one hot guy.

“You live together?” Mikey likes going to other people’s places for hook ups more than he likes taking them home to his. It’s easier to escape.

“We’re heading out then?” Pete grins.

“There’s only about an hour of the show left, everyone that might care already has my card. I don’t see why not.”

It shouldn’t surprise Mikey that their house is full of artwork. Gerard hardly has any wall space left, why should anyone that Gerard decides to show? Still, it’s a bit startling to walk into their bathroom and think that someone is standing behind him before realising it’s just a blown up photo.

The bedroom is wallpapered. Mikey is a Way, and he’s heard from several friends how disturbing their childhood home was. He can do creepy. The bedroom is beyond creepy, zooms straight past scary. Mikey figures as he’s whizzing down the scale between odd and freakish he lands somewhere near ‘surreal’. The bedroom has a wallpaper of tiny 2x3 photos, a floor to ceiling covering of high school picture day wallet sized photos. He wants to get on his hands and knees and really look. He wants to study, see if every one is different, or if they’re the same twenty friends repeated.

Instead Pete pushes him to the bed and arranges him so he’s laying with his head in Gabe’s lap. He can’t see the walls, just a dark stretch of skin where Gabe is curled over him, lightly stroking his chest with spread fingers. Mikey pushes up into Pete’s mouth and wonders if this is art to them.


End file.
